Body over mind.

Trigger warning: eating disorder

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You know it's real when you spend twenty dollars on food

and immediately want to throw it away in a nearby dumpster

as soon as you're handed it in the drive-thru, but you don't,

because you're unsure if the guilt and shame from wasting

money would be too much to handle.

So you eat, knowing you could have just allowed yourself

a few pieces, knowing that you've had excellent self-control

for the past six weeks, it would be easy to moderate,

but you're trying to hurt yourself.

Punish yourself.

You only end up eating for fifteen minutes before you grab garbage

bags and expertly smash and hide the boxes in them.

You couldn't even finish half of it.

And you can't keep leftovers.

They'd know.

So you scold yourself.

You wasted it anyway.

You're no better than anyone else.

Why didn't you smoke cigarette after cigarette on the back porch instead?

Why didn't you blare metal music and play violent video games

until you had a headache and your mind had become sufficiently numb?

Why did you ruin it for yourself?

Again?

You realize that you could have had a nice night.

Without it.

You could have re-watched one of your favorite shows and treated yourself.

Had a soothing cup of tea and maybe some crackers.

And now, as much as you don't want to do what your body says,

you know you'll be making it up in sweat and tears and aches.

Your muscles will hurt.

You're angry for feeling like you have to compensate.

You've tried so many other ways.

But you can't sleep if it's still there.

If you don't at least... try.